Lets stay positive!
Traveler, product creator, and horror/adventure writer. Entrepreneur at heart.



Lets stay positive!
Traveler, product creator, and horror/adventure writer. Entrepreneur at heart.
In the Spotlight
Latest Stories
View AllReviews
Dark side of an entrepreneur
I felt the loneliness and exhaustion in this, especially in the line “Every move I make takes me even farther from home.” The voice has a brooding, restless quality, but I kept wanting something more concrete to hold onto: what has the speaker actually lost, and what does this entrepreneurial life look like day to day? Because the passage stays mostly in abstract statements, the emotional conflict remained distant for me rather than becoming fully involving. It reads more like an intense opening reflection than a complete story so far.
Eleanor Hart
Prison Break: Part 1: First two years and a distant dream.
I was interested in the narrator’s isolation and in how Ruffus’s question makes him confront life after prison, but the story spends so much time on the daily schedule that the central tension arrives very late. By the time Ruffus asks, “What are your plans, my friend?”, the piece ends just as their relationship and the distant dream begin to take shape. That made this feel more like extended setup than a complete first installment, even though the idea of two prisoners imagining freedom together is compelling.
Eleanor Hart
Dark side of an entrepreneur
This reads like a raw, restless snapshot of someone chasing a life that keeps moving out of reach. The line “Every move I make takes me even farther from home.” captures that contradiction especially well: ambition is producing distance instead of belonging. I liked the tension between wanting “a plain life” and refusing anything normal, though the piece stays so abstract that I was left more with an atmosphere than a clear sense of the person or situation behind it. The closing date and Berlin setting add a faintly intriguing frame, and I’d be curious to see that inner conflict take shape through more concrete moments.
Ethan Walker
Prison Break: Part 1: First two years and a distant dream.
The prison routine feels convincingly monotonous and claustrophobic, which makes the library a welcome little refuge. I especially liked how Ruffus’s simple question about the future unsettles the narrator more than any obvious threat could have. His unexpected description of a sunny Himalayan town gives the story a vivid sense of possibility without losing the prison’s heaviness. I was left curious about what Ruffus is really planning and whether the narrator can hold on to that spark of hope.
Ethan Walker
Dark side of an entrepreneur
I felt the strongest pull in the contradiction between wanting “a plain life” and insisting it should be “not normal.” That tension makes the speaker seem caught between exhaustion and the need to keep searching, especially alongside “Every move I make takes me even farther from home.” The loneliness comes through, but the piece stays so compressed and abstract that I found myself reaching for something more concrete to hold onto—a person, place, or moment that shows what this distance costs. Still, the final wish, “Want to be seen just like it is,” leaves a clear sense of vulnerability beneath the entrepreneurial identity.
Ananya Mehta
Prison Break: Part 1: First two years and a distant dream.
What stayed with me was the way Ruffus’s question—“what were my future plans”—opens a space the narrator has been avoiding. Until then, he is surviving through routine: reading, writing, working, and keeping a low profile. The question forces him to look beyond the prison walls and confront whether freedom will actually feel possible after seven years and a murder conviction attached to his name. I especially liked how the narrator initially dismisses Ruffus as crazy, yet still finds himself imagining that snowy Himalayan town. That small act of imagining feels like the first real crack in his emotional confinement, and it made me curious about what Ruffus sees that he cannot yet see for himself.
Ananya Mehta


